


Famine

by outofstep



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Homeless Rey, I need a life, Reylo - Freeform, Rich Ben Solo, Slow Burn, Smut, Yall asked for ben cooking for rey here it is but with a super dark background, definitely a slow burn, there is plenty of sin to go around for all of us
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 02:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13448331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofstep/pseuds/outofstep
Summary: AU where Rey is homeless, living on the streets of Brooklyn. One night when Rey is scavenging for food, she is overcome with dehydration and hunger, and Ben Solo finds her just in time.





	1. I'm So Hungry

“This is disgusting,” Rey mutters to no one but the lonesome alleyway itself. “Even for me. This is fucking gross.” 

Rey was knee deep in trash — scraping through some dumpster behind some hipster restaurant in Bushwick. Her fingers were caked in grime and the filthy odor of decay was almost enough to make Rey hurl herself over the side of the dumpster and vomit. But the girl kept on digging and ripping through the black bags, trying to find any amount of food that could be salvaged. The pangs in her stomach were becoming unbearable, and at this point there was nothing stopping her from eating straight trash. She has been out on the streets for almost seven months now, jumping from homeless shelter to homeless shelter but never staying in one place for too long. The New York Boroughs are unforgiving — and Rey was quick to learn of what it means to be completely on your own in a world that wants nothing to do with you. 

But at least she has her freedom. 

There’s no such thing as freedom when you’re being thrown from foster home to foster home, only to land in the hands of someone who is more like a master than a guardian. Rey has found that she sleeps better on the streets than what she ever did in that house. The house where she was forced into strenuous labor, starved, and sometimes beaten. When she turned eighteen, Rey packed her things into a large duffle bag and left everything from her old life behind. At the time, Rey had a plan to move to New York and find a decent job with a decent apartment to match. Oh, how naive she was. 

Under a wad of dirty napkins and an unknown ball of smush, Rey found a half eaten slice of pizza. The pizza had meat on it — or what was left of meat, now a grayish purple color with spots of mold. The screaming hunger in her stomach pushes any disgust from Rey’s mind as she pinches her nose and stuffs the soggy slice into her mouth. It only takes a few seconds before Rey is throwing herself off the side of the dumpster and onto the ground, choking on bits of bread and moldy meat.    Air catches in her lungs as she violently coughs, her knees scraping into the gravel with each jerk of her body. Rey feels the bile gurgling in the back of her throat and grips the curbside for support as her being lurches forward, convulsing. Her chest burns from heaving and the entirety of her being _stings_ from the force of her own body caving in on itself. 

Rey lays down on the sidewalk, closing her eyes for just a moment to focus on her breathing. “Last time I try digging for food in a dumpster,” she grumbles to herself, spitting the sour taste of vomit out of her mouth and onto the pavement. Her head aches with a dull hum so Rey lays there for a while, staring up into the sky of dark clouds and apartment buildings. Rey doesn’t hear the back entrance of the restaurant open, nor does she see the group of kitchen staff sauntering her way. “Hey!” A man’s voice growls, “What the hell are you doing back here, rat?” 

Rey’s head lolls towards the direction of the man’s voice. _He has nice red hair._

“I asked you a question, girl.” The redheaded man snipped. 

An incredibly tall woman with blonde hair speaks next. “I think she’s drunk, Hux. She got sick all over herself.” 

“She’s probably a junkie,” Hux said. 

“Are we supposed to call for help? Because I’m running late,” the blonde woman mutters, completely disinterested. 

The back door of the restaurant opens and crashes shut. Another voice breaks through the night air. The voice is cool, deep, and collected; rumbling right through Rey. “What’s going on?” 

“We seem to have found a body,” the blonde woman disturbingly jokes. 

Rey’s head is pounding so harshly that she can’t keep her eyes open for too long, but she is able to catch small and hazy glimpses of the third voice. He’s taller than the other two, with broad shoulders and long wavy hair darker than the night. He’s walking closer to her, almost frantically, and now he’s shouting but Rey can’t make out the words. Fingers are circling her upper arms and she’s being pulled into an upright sitting position but her head just lolls back as the pounding rushes into her brain. One of the hands leaves her arm to grab her chin, steadying her face to level with dark eyes in front of her. “Are you high? Drunk? Did you take any drugs or alcohol?” His voice is stern, but not angry. “If you took anything, kid, I need to know.” 

_I’m not a kid._

_I’m not a drunk or a junkie._

_I’m so hungry._

_I’m exhausted._

Rey didn’t know if she said it out loud or not. She could only remember strong arms lifting her up into the air and the dim light of the night draining from her hazy vision as the darkness settled in. 


	2. Carry Me Home

_“This kitchen is a mess, Rey.”_

_“I cl-cleaned it four t-times.”_

_Hands in her hair. Screaming._

_Her body being thrown down a flight of stairs into the dark basement._

_No, no…_

_“_ No!” Rey starts with a jerk. Her eyes fly open and she instantly regrets it. The lighting is stark and cruel, and her head throbs at the sharpness of it. Rey takes a moment to gather her surroundings; she’s on a hospital bed in an emergency room. _What hospital is this?_

Panic begins to flare in her stomach. _How far away am I? From my last spot? My bag? How did I get here?_

“You’re awake,” a familiar voice speaks. It’s soft and curious. 

Rey turns to meet the dark eyes of the deep voice. “How did I get here?” She asks nervously. 

“I found you in the back alley by the dumpster after I got off from my shift at the restaurant. The doctor said you were dehydrated and malnourished so they set you up with some kind of salt-electrolyte-fluid-thing. I’m not sure, I’m not a doctor.” 

Rey slowly nods her head, her tongue flicking out against her cracked lips in thought. “Did you,” Rey pauses for a moment, heat creeping up the base of her neck to her cheeks. “Carry me?” 

The man quirks a small, confused grin. “To my car, yes.” 

“Oh,” is all Rey can say. Embarrassment, anger — _shame —_ surges through her body like a bolt of lightning. 

As if he could sense her discomfort, he clears his throat and changes the subject. “I’m Ben, by the way. I don’t want you to worry, I brought your bag with us so it wasn’t left behind or anything. I figured it was important.” 

“Thank you,” Rey murmurs. “I’m Rey.” 

“Rey,” he repeats to himself. 

 _You really don’t have to stay,_ is what she wants to say. But instead she just smiles and he shrugs, his large brown eyes still dancing with curiosity. Silence stretches over them for a time, and Ben leans back in his chair, shutting his eyes. The embarrassment and anger Rey felt before begins to fade, resolving slowly into appreciation for Ben’s lack of questions. He doesn’t pry into why she was by that dumpster, or what she was doing, or how she got so dehydrated and malnourished in the first place. She appreciates the quiet between them — as quiet as an emergency room can get, that is. Rey takes the time to really _look_ at him, at the man who pretty much saved her life. Or at least, saved her from a rather difficult night. 

 _His hair looks soft._ Ben’s head lolls against the chair, his hair spilling onto the back of it in black waves. Moles and freckles are scattered along the smooth skin of his face and neck, and Rey can’t help but wonder where else they might be. The strong arms Rey remembers picking her up are crossed over his chest, the lean muscles and veins twitching every so often. He’s wearing all black; black t-shirt, black jeans, black boots. Rey’s eyes flicker back up to his face, tracing over his sharp jaw line and protruding Adam’s apple. Her eyes fall onto his lips, which are slightly parted and plump. It takes Rey a moment for her to realize that he’s awake now, watching her with an arched brow. Rey immediately turns away, her cheeks flushing to a pale pink as Ben’s lips quirk into a small grin. “Like what you see, kid?” 

 _Uh._ Desperately trying to hold on to what was left of her dignity, Rey sits up a little straighter and levels her head towards the opposite side of the emergency room. “There’s not much to see,” she lies, regretting the words the second they slip from her mouth. Ben’s grin falters for a moment before he stands up and walks to the foot of her bed. “I’m going to see when they can discharge you,” he says through a forced smile. “Try not to pass out again while I’m gone.” 

“Yep,” Rey says shortly. _Maybe I’ll pass out just to spite him._

 

* * *

 

After being discharged, Rey and Ben walk side by side towards the exit of the hospital. He’s _huge —_ towering over her like the skyscrapers of New York City. Rey notices how he slows his pace to meet her stride; with legs like his walking at his normal pace, he’d be a mile ahead of her already. His all-black attire should make him look washed out in the stark lighting of the hallway, yet instead he looks like some sort of avenging angel. His arms slightly swing at his sides and Rey can’t help but glance at his shoulder blades as they move beneath his t-shirt. When they finally reach the exit of the hospital, reality slams into Rey like a fist, stopping her abruptly mid-stride.  “I don’t have insurance,” she says with a horrified look on her face. 

Ben slows to a stop and turns to look at her, fisting his hands into his front pockets. “I took care of it,” he says cautiously. “It wasn’t a lot.” 

The familiar sting of anxiety flares inside her, as if a bees’ nest was kicked over in Rey’s stomach. _I don’t have the money to pay him back, there’s nothing I can give him — Wait — What if he wants me to do_ something _for him in return? No, that’s — that’s extreme. He took me to the hospital, if he wanted to hurt me, he would have done something when I was knocked out on the street._

Before she can object, or even thank him, Ben puts his hand up to silence her and turns to walk out of the sliding doors. “Is there a phone number for your parents that we can call?” He asks her as they step out into the cool night air. 

She thinks about all of the years mentally patching herself up after being abandoned, all of the wasted time in foster care, and shivers. “No,” she mutters, not exactly looking at him. 

“Oh,” he says. “Any friends?” 

“No,” she says again. 

“Somewhere I can take you?” 

“No,” she says steadily, the anger coursing back into her system. “There’s nothing, no one. I have nowhere to go,” She finally looks up at him to meet his eyes. His mouth is set in a straight line, his eyes black with something Rey cannot place. “But I’m fine. I can handle myself and I don’t need this,” she says, gesturing her hands to the space between them.

“I’m just trying to help, kid.” 

“I’m not a kid,” she snaps. “I don’t want your help — I don’t need it. And I definitely,” she spits, her words dripping with venom as she waves her arms in the direction of the hospital. “Don’t want your pity money.” 

For a fleeting moment, Ben looks stunned. It doesn’t take much time for his cheeks to flush with anger. “What would you have me do?” He bites out through gritted teeth. “Leave you there on that curbside, covered in your own vomit and piss?” His shoulders were trembling as he stepped closer to her and jabs a finger aggressively against her collarbone. “You were passed out on the _street_. I wasn’t going to leave you there — for you to _die_ — o-or to have some scumbag come along and have his way with you.” 

“I can take care of myself,” she growls, shoving her shoulder hard against his finger. “I’m not your fucking charity case.” 

“Is this what you do?” His breath is hot against her face. “When people try to help you? You what, just scream in their face and hope that they’ll go away?” 

“I don’t even know you!” Rey is almost hysterical, gritting her teeth together to stop from screaming. “We’re not friends, we’re not — not — anything!” 

“I just saved your ungrateful ass,” Ben says in a low, steady voice. 

“Well,” Rey bites. “I didn’t ask you to. Maybe you should have just left me there.” 

“Yeah,” Ben sighs, throwing up his arms in defeat. “Maybe I should’ve.” 

And with that, he drops Rey’s duffel bag to the ground at her feet, turning on his heel to walk away. Rey stands there for a long time, her body screaming with rage, watching Ben’s back recede into the night of busy people and crowded streets. He means to leave her too.  

 

* * *

 

Rey roamed the streets for a few hours until she found herself wandering towards a women’s shelter somewhere in Williamsburg. She was provided with packaged underwear, pads and tampons, and baby wipes for the road, as well as a bunk to sleep in for the night. There would have also been a warm meal in her stomach if it weren’t for the fight that broke out in the eating area. The shelter wasn’t exactly armed with security so most of the kitchen staff had to leave their posts to break up the fight. Rey was able to grab a few bags of pretzels and an apple before being escorted to her bunk. 

Like most nights, Rey found it difficult to fall asleep. The woman in the bunk beside her was snoring so loudly, Rey considers shoving a sock into her mouth in an attempt for some peace and quiet. Instead, she opens a bag of pretzels and begins to count and ration for the week. Rey allows herself two pretzels before she felt exhaustion creep up on her. Just as she starts to drift into sleep, an older woman sneaks over to Rey’s bunk and quietly pulls her duffel bag from under the cot.

“Hey!” Rey growls, pulling her duffel bag out of the arms of the older woman. “Just try me, bitch. You don’t know what I’ve been through.” 

The older woman throws up her hands in defense. “We’re all struggling here, child.” 

The words ring in Rey’s ears for what feels like forever after the woman crawled back down to her bunk on the other side of the room. It becomes painfully clear to Rey that sleep will not come easily tonight. She gathers up her belongings and throws on her boots before heading down the hallway, out the door of the shelter, and back into the glowing dawn. 

Rey starts into a slow jog down the sidewalk until she reaches the entrance to the subway, sliding down the handrail instead of taking the steps. The ticket clerk isn’t paying attention when she hops up and over the turnstile, landing swiftly on her feet and walking onward towards the train platform. Rey makes sure to jump onto the L train heading towards Bushwick, settling on a seat in the front corner of the car. 

Down on the opposite side of the car, a scruffy old man covered in rags and an oversized winter coat is slumped against his seat, snoring softly. A mother and her daughter sit towards the center of the train car, the daughter tucked under her mothers arms in a deep sleep on the young woman’s lap. Rey feels a pang of jealousy in her gut as she watches the mom caress her sleeping child’s hair, but smiles when she glances Rey’s way, giving her a small wave hello. Rey’s head rests against the wall of the train car, swaying back and forth from the abrupt and jerky ride. Rey allows herself to close her eyes for just a moment, imagining what it might feel like to have a mother to sleep on. 

 

* * *

 

“What ever happened to that girl?” Hux asks, shoving his apron into his locker. 

“What girl?” Ben responds, his voice devoid of interest as he pulls on a fresh t-shirt. 

“You’re kidding me, Ben. The living dead girl — that trash rat.” 

“I don’t know,” Ben breathes. He doesn’t want to tell his coworker the events of last night; Hell, he doesn’t want to think about it at all anymore. “Try not to be so inconsiderate, Hux.” 

“Inconsiderate? She’s probably just some junkie thief desperate for a fix.” 

“Even if she was,” Ben snaps, “You have no right to talk shit. It’s none of your fucking business — I’m done talking about this.” 

“Damn,” he hears Hux mutter from behind him. “Way to let your personal feelings get in the way, Ben.” 

Ben slams his locker shut, grabs his wallet and strides out of the staffroom and into the kitchen. Grabbing a knife and a loaf of bread, Ben slices enough for three sandwiches before placing the loaf back where it came from. Ben goes through the motions of blending roasted peanuts, honey, and a very small amount of semi-sweet chocolate in a food processor. Taking a small knife, Ben scoops out the fresh peanut butter and spreads it across the warm bread. He wraps the three sandwiches in tinfoil before placing them in a brown paper bag. Ben scribbles her name on the bag and heads out the back door of the restaurant, where he places the paper bag behind the dumpster.

 

When Ben arrives to work the next morning, the bag has been replaced with a lone pretzel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyoooo! Yeah, so this is definitely slow burn like painfully so and I apologize for that ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I'm hoping the length of this chapter is a little better, but please let me know what you think!  
> Thank you so much for reading xo

**Author's Note:**

> First, thank you so much for reading!  
> I know the chapter is a little short, hopefully the next will be longer. This is my first fan fiction so I'm really excited to continue this. Thank you again for reading :')


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